


Jeanne D’Arc (Alter) |  Acheronta movebo

by annitrn



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 07:05:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17893802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annitrn/pseuds/annitrn
Summary: A/n: Writing this for my own damn pleasure because I absolutely hate the common fandom view of Jalter merely being the queen of tsunderes when she is WAY more than that and deserves to be seen as the scornful, wicked dragon witch that she actually is.And no, before the hate starts - this is nothing against artists who draw her as a tsundere, because your art is great and you do you - but it doesn’t mean i have to agree with it since I’m just trying to portray a character I adore the way I think they truly are like, that’s all.





	Jeanne D’Arc (Alter) |  Acheronta movebo

It was a scene of havoc. One servant after another vanished in the sea of flames like a log burning away in fire. Screams of terror, and sizzling noises that couldn’t be anything but flesh eaten alive by fire could be heard, splitting the world apart. Filling the air with their wrath and fury, devouring all that stood in their path, the flames roared with joy as a lone woman with long flowing hair slowly walked towards you. Your stomach clenched as you made out the familiar figure walking calmly amidst the searing flames, as if she was on a stroll along the shore.

Tears of despair begged to be set free, yet you couldn’t turn your gaze from her eyes that shone brighter than the flames being reflected in them. Even amidst the blood and fire that filled the place, you could feel the force of her gaze. Her golden orbs were full of ferine amusement, glistening with feral anticipation at the terror on your bewildered face, when you recognized who the real traitor was. A scornful laugh escaped her lips as she pressed the tip of her sword against your neck. The sharp blade was set on your skin precariously, soft enough to not pierce through your throat, but hard enough to draw a little blood that now trickled down your skin.

_**‘’What’s with that devastated look on your face, Master? Didn’t I tell you , that I would grant you the delight of getting consumed by my flames when you wished for it so carelessly? Ah, look at the despair on your face. So bewitching, so contagious!’’** _

There was no mercy in her eyes as she spit those words into your face. No traces of kindness could be found on her face that was contorted with ill-concealed hatred, the corner of her lips tugged up in a cruel smile. You knew it was futile to appeal to her better self, as she didn’t possess one in the first place, and even if she had she would have denied it. But still you couldn’t fight back the tears that were pricking in the corner of your eyes when you realized with a sinking feeling in your heart that this was the end. You couldn’t help but feel something inside you shatter when a spear of despair rushed through your veins as your servants died like flies while you were kneeling in the dust.

She had wanted to see that look of utter betrayal and complete bewilderment on your eyes, it had been the only thought keeping her at your side when her insides had been boiling with wrath over your artlessness. Every time she had looked into your eyes she only saw you searching for pieces of  _that woman_ in her. But she wasn’t that woman and would never be  _her_. 

She had been forged in fire and hatred and suffocating darkness until she became a being far beyond salvation that no God would ever shine his light upon. Perhaps  _she_ had a soul once, perhaps  _she_ had harbored kindness in her heart once, but not her. Her soul had been burned away by the flames that took her life, only leaving enough space for blazing hatred and resentment to take roots. And the fact that you treated her in the same loving way as you treated that holy maiden, thus denying her whole existence as an Avenger only made the fire running through her veins burn even brighter with fury. Spending time with you never managed to quench her hatred, never managed to make it ebb, and only fueled it with each day passing.

So when that Crypter appeared on the scene and proposed to free her from the contract that bound her to you, if only she betrayed you, how could she possibly refuse such an offer to take the sweet revenge she had longed for since her summoning. If she couldn’t bend heaven, then she would raise hell and turn the whole world into a swirling, all-devouring inferno. If she could plunge both you and humanity into complete destruction, then it would be the first time she actually felt true joy.

The light in her golden eyes grew, when she saw the fear rising in your heart and her lips curled up into a vicious, venom-dripping smile. Without her hatred she wouldn’t be the accursed witch that she was, as it was the only fuel that kept her going, that proved that she was right. She steadied her grip on her sword, a weapon that other woman had never used in life. But she wasn’t so weak, so feeble and her time for revenge had come. 

Her eyes held yours and in those fractions of seconds you could make out the woman she could’ve been - before she tightened her steadfast grip on the hilt, spun the blade in a swift movement and drove the cold steel deep into your chest and the world vanished in blood and fire.

 

_**‘’My hatred, my resentment. Now I will make you know how it feels. Adieu, my stupid little Master.’’** _


End file.
